Pillow Talk
by sonomom
Summary: Ranger has always been able to discern Stephanie's thoughts, but she's been clueless about what was going on in his head...until now. Just a fun little Babe HEA...


_**I was having a minor fit last evening. I needed an infusion of Ranger, and while there are many wonderful fan fiction stories to choose from, I needed something new, something personal. So I decided to fix my need for a Ranger fix…and although Ranger doesn't share, I do. I hope you enjoy it. As always, I own nothing and do this for fun and not for profit. Thank you jago ji for your mad beta skills.**_

Pillow Talk

I was aching in places a girl didn't like to ache. The dream had been hot, with every touch, every breath against my fevered skin vivid in my mind. I'd been doing things I'd never dreamed of before, and my body reacted in ways it never had before. That's probably because I had been doing those things with the Cuban sex god, Ranger. The Ranger of my dreams, as well as Ranger of reality, could push buttons I didn't even know I had. He'd obviously read my instruction manual, because he knew exactly how I worked. But something had awakened me, smack dab in the middle of my dream, and now I was left aroused and alone.

A glance at my clock told me it was 3:00 a.m. That translated into 0300 across town at Ranger's apartment, the place where I'd planned to spend the night. My plans had been shot to heck when the bat phone rang. Ranger had morphed from a smoldering, muscle-bound hunk of potential sexual satisfaction to a shuttered, self-contained soldier, suddenly thrust into a mission to save the world. He'd given me one dark look before telling me that I was welcome to stay the night, but that he'd be leaving before daylight.

I made my decision. Ranger didn't go into the wind as often as he used to, but when he went it was hard for me to be brave. The minute he left the bedroom for the shower I grabbed my big-girl panties…the black lacy ones, from the floor and prepared to make my exit. After I'd dressed, I thought about poking my head into the bathroom to tell him goodbye, and I went as far as the door, before I decided I didn't trust myself not to cry. On an impulse, I turned toward the bed and grabbed the pillow that was still indented from Ranger's head, and I ran.

The ringing of my phone brought my attention back from Ranger's apartment to my aching…uhm…"Hello."

"Babe."

"You're still here?" I asked.

"I'm on my way out the door now."

"When will you be back?"

"Don't know. Probably a couple of weeks. If you need anything, call Tank."

"Yeah, sure." When hell freezes over. "Ranger…" I couldn't say it. I wanted to, but the words wouldn't come. "Be careful," I substituted.

"I always am. You be careful. Don't take unnecessary chances, and if you need help, call Tank." He disconnected and I felt the void immediately.

I flopped back on the bed and turned to bury my face in his pillow. I wanted to cry, but I was afraid the tears would dilute the scent of Bulgari on the pillowcase. Instead, I told his pillow what I couldn't tell him. "I love you."

 _I love you, too, Babe._

"In your own way."

 _In every way. I never should have used a qualifier. I was trying to protect myself._

"Protect yourself from what?"

 _From you. From the power you have over me. But there is no protection, except to let you in closer. To acknowledge the power and let you revel in it. I should have told you sooner. You're everything to me._

"Oh, Ranger!" My exclamation brought me out of the zombie-like state I'd been in, and I realized I'd been talking out loud to someone who wasn't there. And someone who wasn't there had been answering. I knew that Ranger's answers were just my wishful thinking, but imagining him talking to me was comforting. And there was no one to hear. There was no one. For two weeks. I let the tears fall, mindless of the fact they might wash away the scent of Bulgari.

Each day Ranger was gone I tried not to think of him. And each day I was unsuccessful. At night I went home to my apartment and waited for bedtime when I could lay my head on Ranger's pillow and tell him about my day. "Vinnie's a dick," I told him on the fourth day.

 _He is._

"He's a perverted dick. I mean, he's my cousin for Pete's sake, and I caught him leering at my ass. And he was enjoying the view. He's disgusting!"

 _I'll kill him when I get home._

"No," I laughed at the thought and let the pillow absorb my breath. "If you kill him, I'll be out of a job."

 _I want you to work for me, full-time. That would be an easy way to achieve it._

"I can't work for you, Ranger," I said, drawing in a breath and frowning when I realized the scent of Bulgari was weakening. "You do too much for me already. I can't let you give me a job. I'd owe you forever."

 _You'd be earning your pay, Babe. And there's no price. You know that. I want to take care of you. I need to take care of you._

"Huh, men! Don't go getting all macho on me, Ranger. I can take care of myself."

 _I know you can, but I want you close to me._

"That's really a good idea. If I was close to you, I could take care of you!"

 _Babe._

On the eighth night, I said, "It wasn't my fault."

 _It usually isn't._

"Don't patronize me, Ranger," I huffed. "It absolutely wasn't my fault."

 _I know it wasn't your fault. You're quietly competent. That's proven by the fact you're still alive after working so long with Lula. No matter how close I want to keep you, I wouldn't offer you a job if you weren't competent. What did she do?_

"She accidentally fired her gun. Through her new fake Brahmin. And she missed Joe's head by an inch! I had to sweet-talk him like crazy to keep him from taking her in and charging her!"

 _What where you doing with Morelli? And what do you mean by sweet-talking?_

"You sound jealous, Ranger. You need to hurry home and take care of your woman."

 _You are my woman, Babe. I'm glad you know it._

I missed Ranger like crazy, but I took comfort in talking with him every night. I felt as though we were finally getting in sync on an emotional level. There was no doubt we were in sync physically. Oh, okay, I know it was just my imagination, but I've always had a good imagination, and it did help to keep my fear and anxiety for his safety at bay.

On the twelfth night, I told him I'd bought something new to welcome him home, but he didn't answer me. I teased him with the description of the sexy red negligee I'd purchased, but he still remained silent. I turned my head into the pillow, upset that I hadn't been able to conjure a conversation, and I realized I couldn't smell the Bulgari at all. I didn't sleep well that night, but I awoke feeling excited. Ranger would be home soon.

On the fourteenth night, I climbed into bed and punched his pillow. "Where are you, Ranger? You're late. You said you'd be home in two weeks!"

 _I'm in trouble, Babe. I may not…it might be a while. I love you._

I sat up in bed, wide awake with my heart beating so fast I couldn't catch my breath. His voice was weak, not like normal. I knew. I didn't know how I knew, but I did. I could see him. I grabbed my phone and called Tank, with no hesitation.

"Stephanie?" The grogginess of his voice reminded me it was late, but I made no apology for obviously waking him.

"Ranger's in trouble," I said. "I think he's hurt."

"You've talked to Ranger?" His voice was alert, the vestiges of sleep entirely gone.

"Yes, well, no. But I know, Tank. I know. He's waiting for an extraction, but no one came. He's hiding but he doesn't know how long he'll be safe. He's in Florida, I think."

"Florida?" Tank asked. "He told you he was in Florida?"

"Yes, Boca...that's Florida right?"

"Oh shit, he said Boca? You're sure?"

"I, yes, I think he said Boca. I don't know if he said it…but it's Boca."

"Bocas del Toro, Panama," Tank said. "He was supposed to be in Costa Rica, but that's close enough. I can't understand why he called you. Why the hell didn't he call me?"

"He didn't actually call, I mean, I talked to him, but…" I was speaking to a dial tone. I picked up my jeans from the floor and pulled them on. I was out the door in less than two minutes and in the RangeMan garage ten minutes later.

The tension was evident in the faces of Tank, Vince and Lester as they stood in close conversation in the control room. Not one of them looked askance at my hair curling out of control or at my oversized RangeMan t-shirt tucked half in and half out of my wrinkled jeans. I could tell they were planning.

"We're in touch with the agency that sent him," Tank told me. "They've not had communication from him for the last forty-eight hours, but we're going in. Based on what you told us and what the agency knew, we think we've got enough Intel to find him and get him out. How the hell did he get through to you?"

"I don't know," I said. I wanted to tell them it had been a dream. That I'd been having wonderful dreams full of conversation with Ranger every night since he left, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I knew, but I didn't know how I knew, and if I tried to tell them, maybe they wouldn't go. And they had to go, to save Ranger.

Ella came and got me an hour later. I suppose Tank had called her down. She took me to seven and told me I should stay. I agreed with her and let her find me a fresh RangeMan t-shirt to sleep in. I looked at the bed with its smooth comforter covering the high thread count sheets I was so fond of, and I saw two pillows on the bed. When I slipped between the sheets, I smelled the fresh scent of clean linen. No Bulgari. I left the bed and went to the shower where I lathered my body with Bulgari. I shampooed my hair with Bulgari and toweled it dry, and when I went back to bed I was comforted by the scent.

For twenty-four hours I stayed in the apartment. Vinnie called to see why I wasn't at work and I told him I was ill. It wasn't a lie. Lula called to see what kind of sick I was and I was vague. "You're pregnant!" she accused.

"I'm not," I said.

"You are. You're a lady in waiting. Waiting on a baby!"

"I'm not pregnant!" I insisted before I disconnected. But I was waiting.

I was awake and in Ranger's bed when the call came, not from Ranger but from Tank. "We got him. He's dehydrated and a little banged up, but he'll be fine. He's with a medic right now but he wanted me to let you know, because of a loose connection. It didn't make sense."

I turned my head to the pillow and sniffed. In spite of my daily attempts to infuse the scent, I couldn't smell Bulgari on the pillow. "He lost his connection," I said, my voice a little unsteady.

"Whatever," Tank said. "He'll be stateside in a couple of days and home within a week. Thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks, Tank," I said. I disconnected and scooped my jeans off the floor where I'd stepped out of them. I was back in my apartment in no time at all and the jeans were again laying on the carpet.

I sighed as my head hit the pillow and relaxed knowing Ranger would be home soon. My eyelids grew heavy as the tension of the last day eased from my body.

 _Goodnight, Babe. Sleep tight._

It was a week later at the bond's office when I felt the goosebumps raise on my arms and the back of my neck tingle. I turned to see Ranger, looking one hundred percent bad-ass standing near the door. He was scowling at Vinnie who was watching Lula file on the lower shelves.

"I've been told you're a dick, Vinnie," Ranger said. "I wanted to kill you, but your sentence has been commuted. Stephanie is giving her notice."

His gaze turned toward me. "I need to see you in the alley, Babe." I stared at him open-mouthed. How had he known?

"I need to see you, now." He held out his hand to me and I took it. When we were in the alley he turned and pushed me none too gently against the wall. "I don't share."

"I didn't ask you to share," I said, a little confused, a little threatened, and a lot excited.

"I don't share," he repeated. "What did you mean when you said you were sweet-talking Morelli?" How did he know? I thought of all those late night pretend conversations.

"Ranger," I said, ignoring his question. "Do I mean everything to you?"

He smiled, all 200 watts and I was momentarily blinded, until his mouth came down on mine.

 _Everything, Babe. You mean everything._


End file.
